Sweet and Sour
by Ria Rose
Summary: Some people are getting the wrong idea, but really, Harry just likes it rough. He doesn’t mind the bruises, so stop thinking he’s some sort of wimp, okay! -Written for the KKBB Kink Meme- *SLASH between Perry and Harry, genre only sorta-kinda fits.*


Title: Sweet and Sour

Author: Jaded_Fae (Ria Rose)

Fandom: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang

Pairing: Perry/Harry

Rating: M/NC-17

Part: 1/1

Summary: Some people are getting the wrong idea, but really, Harry just likes it rough. He doesn't mind the bruises, so stop thinking he's some sort of wimp, okay?!

Author's Notes: May be a bit OOC. Written for the KKBB Kink Meme, Kink Kink Bang Bang, for the prompt:

_Harry/Perry, bruises._

_I'd love of see some Harry with some bruises post sexing. Maybe around his wrists fom being pinned or even a hickey or two. ;)_

-Sweet and Sour-

Having finally been allowed to undertake in some surveillance on his own, Harry took great pains not to fuck it up. Perry would be proud; he knew it. Every action was thought through at least twice, and every picture painstakingly angled and focused. Shit, he was proud of _himself_. This was cause for celebration.

The Dunkin Donuts on Milbar Blvd had fast become one of Harry's favorite haunts. A large coffee (light and sweet, of course) and a strawberry glazed doughnut could cure any bad mood and commemorate any good one. When he was hungry, it was the ham and Swiss flatbread sandwich; if he was extra thirsty or in a particularly good mood, he had a vanilla bean Coolatta.

This night called for a large one of those, two doughnuts, _and_ a flatbread sandwich. He hadn't fucked up for once, he fucking deserved it!

Choosing a table in the corner, Harry sat down and wasted no time in taking a massive bite from one of the doughnuts. He washed it down with a long drink from the Coolatta and leaned back, blissfully happy.

Life was fucking good.

Sure, things hadn't worked out with Harmony, but now that he had Perry, he really couldn't bring himself to give a flying fuck. Things with Perry were AMAZING.

Perry's insults had lost their bite and Harry found himself so happy that he only tripped down the stairs every other day instead of each. The business was going well and Harry found no need to get a thrill from lifting gum from CVS. He had all the adventure he wanted each night when he and Perry went on a stakeout. Alternatively, if they stayed in, that's when things really got interesting.

It took one night for Perry to realize that by taking Harry's virginity, he had stumbled onto something fucking HOT. He discovered that the smaller man had something that all gay men envy.

He could come just from prostate stimulation alone.

This made life in the bedroom more than just a little sweet. It drove Perry wild. He would tie Harry up or pin him down; stopping him from touching his dick and fuck him slowly or hard; finger him relentlessly; or use the pink vibrator on him, moaning because he knew that the vibrations were pulsing against Harry's prostate and driving the New Yorker wild with pleasure.

When Harry came, it was feral. His hips would buck up, his head would be thrown back, and he would fight against whatever restrained him: handcuffs, rope, or Perry's hands, pinning him down by the hip while leaving finger shaped bruises, or holding his hands above his head, marking his wrists with the force it took to hold Harry down.

And Harry loved every second of it.

That's what made this successful surveillance all the more sweeter. He knew that when he went home and showed Perry the evidence and how he had gotten everything _right_ for once, Perry would become too turned on to tame. Sex was a definite and even more exact than that was how it was going to be wild.

Pulling some of the cheese from the sandwich, Harry popped it in his mouth and sighed contently. This was the fucking life. He was already half-hard just from thinking about Perry's reaction and the damn doughnuts and sandwich were just as amazing as always.

He hummed appreciatively to himself and took a bite, and was just swallowing the last bit of the sandwich when a woman sat across from him and handed him a card.

"I know many people refused to believe that men go through it as well, but they do. If you ever need a safe place to stay away from him, go there." She gestured to the card. "We'll keep you safe." With that, she stood, laid a hand gently on his arm, and left.

Harry was stunned. The FUCK was that all about?! Picking at a piece of cheese left behind on the paper the sandwich was in, he moved it to his mouth and read the card.

And spit the cheese halfway across the table.

_Rose House – _

_A safe place for battered spouses. _

_Women and men welcome._

_There's always a light at the end of the tunnel – keep faith._

_(323) 555-6771_

_14 Hannah Court, Downtown LA_

Immediately, Harry looked down to his exposed arms. There were bruises and cuts around the wrists from the cuffs and Perry's fingers and his forearms had dark marks wrapped around them in the shape of the hands he knew very well.

"Well, shit!" he said to no one in particular. That woman thought he was abused! Harry almost laughed if the seriousness of the implication wasn't so bad. Suddenly not so hungry anymore, Harry threw out his trash and took the Coolatta and extra doughnut home with him.

He was confused; did he look like someone who would be abused? Obviously yes if he was approached. Did that mean other people saw him that way as well?

When he walked through the front door, Harry found Perry on the couch watching the late news. He wordlessly handed the blond the camera and watched as he flipped through the pictures, his grin widening until the camera fell to the cushions and Harry found himself pinned beneath his boyfriend, gasping as his neck was attacked with kisses and his lover ground down against him.

"Perry, wait…"

"Don't wanna wait. Wanna shove my fingers inside you and make you scream and then fuck you through the mattress." Perry's verbal grammar only seemed to fail when he was aroused.

Harry moaned at the thought of those talented fingers moving inside of him and working that one sweet spot that drove him over the edge. But it had to wait. He pushed Perry off him, "Honey, wait for just a second. Something happened."

Perry pulled back fast, checking him over visually, "What could possibly have happened? You still have all nine and half, there's no blood, and if you were in any pain you would have cried out. The pictures are amazing and you're back at a decent hour with leftover Dunkin Donuts."

"Well," Harry started, "It's nothing like really fucking bad, I mean, it could even be considered kind of funny, I guess. But some women sat across from me at Dunkin and handed me this card," –he pulled it from his pocket and handed it to Perry- "And she was all like, fuck, like if you want some safe place to go to get away from him or some shit like that."

Perry, having read the card, looked murderous. "People think I fucking abuse you?! What the actual fuck?!" He paused and shot a look at Harry, who was now sitting as he always did, his legs folded beneath him and his head resting on his arm that was propped onto the back of the couch. "Do_ you _think I abuse you?"

Harry's head shot up, "What?! No! Fuck no!"

"Then why is this bothering you?"

"Well, I don't know, I mean, do I look like I get fucking abused? I mean, so I look weak or something?"

Perry sighed and dropped the card on the coffee table. "So, this is about your manly hood?"

"No, _Perry_! I mean, like, do you think that other people look at me and fucking think, this guy is a fucking pussy, gets the shit beat out of him daily. I mean, shit, I don't even know how to fight, right? So I'm weak, right? I'm weak and they see it and they kick my fucking ass."

"Harry…"

"Can you teach me how to fight, please?"

"No. Absolutely not." Perry clipped.

Harry bristled, "Perry, come on, just teach me how to defend myself!"

"What? No, Harry, no! I'm not teaching you how to fucking fight!"

"Why the fuck not?!"

Perry actually looked perplexed. "Harry, one of the things I love about you is your certain naivety. You have these rough edges, you're a thief, you curse like a fucking sailor…well, I do that too, but anyway, you're an animal in bed and all these things that make you what you call a man. But then you have this, I don't know, this fucking innocence about you. You talk too much, you cry easily, you hung onto one girl for how many fucking years, and you get upset if you have to shoot someone, you still get nightmares, you prefer kid's cereals, you're overtly affectionate, you fall in love easily, and you don't have a clue as to how to fight someone. You have a fierce protective streak but you don't want to hurt anyone. I love that about you."

Harry was dumbstruck (which was saying something). "Really?"

"No, I made it all up. Yes, really, you fuck-head! Now, come here." He scooped Harry up, cradling him against the back of the couch and actually rained kisses all over his face, making the smaller man straight up giggle. "We'll just have to make sure you wear long sleeves more often. It gives me an excuse to take you shopping."

"Aw, crap, okay."

"Don't worry, I promise not to put you in any pastels."

"Can I have a signed contract stating so? Because, I mean…you can be kind of unpredictable like that and I really don't want to wear like, fucking pink or something because I'm not a fucking girl and pink is just--"

Perry shut him up with a kiss and stood, lifting him into his arms. "Perry!" Harry squealed, "Put me down!"

"If you were a girl, I wouldn't be taking you to my-" a pause, "_our_ bedroom. And no, I won't. I love holding you; deal with it."

Harry sighed but relented to Perry holding him, going as far as to wrap his arms around the bigger man's neck. Perry took him to their bedroom and, after laying him down on the bed, wasted no time in divulging Harry, pulling off his clothing with an animal want and dragging his nails down the exposed skin.

"Let's really give them something to fucking talk about." He grunted as he grabbed the lube from the nightstand and coated his fingers, "Spread you legs for me, baby." Harry, whose diminished hardness had returned full force as soon as Perry began undressing him, hooked his hands behind his knees and pulled his legs up and open, baring himself fully.

"Shit, you fucking slut!" The blonde looked at him with hungry eyes, his pupils so dilated that the irises looked black. He leaned down, kissed Harry feverishly, and pushed in two fingers.

The reaction was instant, Harry let go of his knees, brought his hands down on either side of himself, pushed up, and impaled himself on Perry's fingers, driving him deeper.

"Fucking A, Harry!" Perry gasped, crooking the two digits against where he knew the New Yorker's prostate was. Harry's moan was deep; he rocked his hips slightly and let his head fall back. "Shit, I'll never be able to keep control with you like this." Withdrawing his fingers (and subsequently receiving the 'stank eye' in return for his action), Perry slid off the bed and pulled a chest from underneath it. Retrieving a set of police standard handcuffs, he held them in one hand and grabbed Harry's hair with the other, tugging him into a rough kiss. "Stop bitching and get on your knees, face the headboard."

Harry moaned and brought his legs under him; he nipped at Perry's lips and turned around, obediently raising his hands to the headboard so the other man could cuff him. Perry loved him like this. He ran his hand down his back and held back a groan as his lover arched to his touch. With a smirk, he smacked his ass, reveling in the moan, and recoated his fingers. "You want it, Harry?"

"Fucking hurry up!"

Perry smacked his ass again, "Patience is a virtue, you fuck-head."

"You said I didn't have any virtues!"

Grinning, the PI responded, "You have one," and shoved three fingers into Harry's waiting ass. "You can come without touching your dick. And that's a fucking virtue I fucking love."

The New Yorker couldn't even bring himself to answer, he squirmed and moaned, "Shit! Harder!" But Perry refused to favor him and instead slowly and antagonizing began his ministrations. He liked to tease Harry, draw it out; it made the climax just that much more intense.

It didn't hurt that Harry's ass was fucking fabulous. While he was too skinny and all sinewy, Harry's body still drove Perry wild. He had this tiny waist marked with a faint muscle definition and his arms were pretty damned defined for a guy who never worked out. He ate what he wanted and didn't gain a damn pound. Unless it all went to his ass and Perry was pretty sure that it did. For all the thinness in Harry's frame, though, Perry never expected that ass. He wore jeans that were too big or sweats that were too baggy. His 'dress' pants (and Perry used that word loosely) did nothing to show off Harry's one amazing…ahem…asset.

That is, until Perry did some shopping for Harry. He understood his need for comfort but if the guy was going to work for him, he needed to dress, well, a lot better than he was. So he dragged Harry to the nearest Armani, Banana Republic, and even allowed himself to dip into Hollister. And what he found was that Harry's butt was, though not a bubble-butt by any means, round, firm, and sexy as hell. He wasted no time in shoving Harry into tight fitting jeans. Then he saw his waist and didn't think twice about putting him in fitted t-shirt. Harry was the kind of sexy that everyone could see but had no clue about it himself. The clothes made him somewhat subconscious, but after an afternoon of whistles and catcalls from both sexes, he found himself blushing with the praise.

And when he and Perry _finally_ got together and started banging, the blond quickly made doggy-style his favorite position. Just to see that hot ass popped up and open, his dick slipping in and out of that willing hole, _shit_, Perry could come from only thinking about it!

The private detective couldn't even believe his luck with Harry. The man has a natural ability to know just what to do during sex. Like that night, handcuffed to the headboard and moaning with three of Perry's fingers in his ass, he dropped his upper body down, keeping his glorious behind popped up in the air. The position just opened him up wider and Perry felt his cock jump at the sight. Harry was a fucking natural.

"Fuck, Harry, your fucking ass." With a slap, Perry added his pinky finger the mix, watching his hand as it almost disappeared into his lover's hole. "Move on me, fuck yourself." Harry obliged. He let out a low moan and pulled himself off Perry's hand and quickly back onto it. Perry pushed His ass down, making him sit up for an easier finger fuck. He rolled his hips slowly and looked at Perry over his shoulder. "Work for it, bitch."

And work for it Harry did. He lifted and dropped himself back down onto the wiggling fingers with a reckless abandon, letting out guttural moans and rasped words. "Fuck. Yes, please, oh God, Perry!"

With a grunt, Perry grabbed Harry's hair, knowing that the New Yorker liked it rough, and pulled. Harry moaned and jerked his hips, his cock bouncing with every moment, so hard that he could barely restrain from touching himself. If he wasn't cuffed up, he would have started to rub himself long before this. He wanted his orgasm and he wanted it '_right fucking now_!' But that wasn't the game and he knew it. He knew it took a little longer but he would come and he would come hard. It would be more than just a little worth it.

Perry's hand started moving again, meeting Harry halfway and making the fuck go double-time. He was close and he knew it.

Withdrawing his hand, Perry once again ignored Harry's (actually rather intimidating) stank eye. He practically ripped off his clothes and didn't even bother to lube up his cock. Harry liked it when it burned just a little. He pushed the smaller man's head into the pillow and shoved inside of him, shuddering to feel how tight he was despite having virtually a whole hand in there barely a moment before.

"Fuck! Perry, fuck me!"

God, he had such a beautiful, dirty mouth.

With both hands, Perry gripped his lover's hair and pulled out almost the entire way. Using his hair like reins, he pushed Harry forward, moved slightly closer, and jerked Him back, sufficiently impaling the New Yorker onto his dick.

Writhing, Harry lost the ability to speak coherently; his mumbles and moans consisted mostly of "Fuck!" and "Harder!" As his orgasm neared, he grew louder, making Perry wish he had close neighbors so that they could hear just how hot his boyfriend sounded when being fucked and just how well he fucked him.

Harry pulled against his restraints, marring his wrists and swimming in the pain; it felt so good! He tugged and growled, wanting to come, and clenched his ass around Perry's dick. The hands in his hair tightened and he looked over his shoulder to his lover, noting with satisfaction that Perry was completely undone. He loved that he was able to make such an unflappable man lose control.

Perry kept pace, angling his body so that every thrust pressed into Harry's prostate. He knew it was only a matter of moments before the smaller man came, he could see the wild abandon in his eyes when he looked over his shoulder at him. "Come on, baby, come for me." He adjusted his hands, making sure that they grabbed close to Harry's scalp and yanked him back onto his cock. Harry screamed out and tensed, finally succumbing to the hard fuck, and climaxed. He was a shooter, another thing Perry loved, and the bigger man let one hand release his hair to feel the spurts of come ejecting from the taut and undulating body underneath him.

Harry's throat rasped and struggled against the fierce screams he emitted, riding through his orgasm with a shaking body and arms that still fought the cuffs on his wrists. Perry could no longer hold back. He grunted and bit Harry's shoulder, climaxing and coming inside of Harry's beautiful, tight ass.

Harry moaned, loving the feel of being so filled. His head was up in the clouds and he barely felt Perry undo the cuffs or move him to his side; however, he did feel Perry spoon behind him, not bothering to clean up or to remove his softening cock from his boyfriend's ass.

"Your wrists okay?" Perry asked, taking one of Harry's hands and kissing the angry looking red marks on the wrist.

"Mmhm…" Harry sounded, too sleepy now to even think about speaking.

"So fucking hot, Harry, my fucking God. Do you have any idea? Didn't have to touch you once."

"Mmm…"

Perry laughed softly, "Falling asleep on me?"

"Mmhm." Harry nodded.

"Hm, okay. I'll allow it, just this once." Perry joked, but Harry made no sound to show he heard him, he had already fallen asleep, and so, Perry snuggled close, kissed his head, and made plans to wake him in a couple of hours while using the vibrator. He had every intention of holding him down by the shoulders, letting Harry claw at himself and fight into another amazing orgasm. But first: a nice nap.

"Harry, baby, I love you." Perry yawned and kissed the bruised wrist again.

There was a mumble and an sleepy, indistinctive, "Love you too," before Perry followed his love into dreams. He never got around to using the vibrator on him that night, but Perry made sure to bring it into the shower in the morning.

&&&

Please review, they make me warm and fuzzy inside.


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